Family Obligations
by krashkart
Summary: It didn't have to be this way he realized. If they were going to be spending the rest of their lives in this god forsaken place they didn't have to do it alone. It was time for him to take a mate and find mates for the others.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Many many thanks to L.M Avalon and Xeromem for their help with this story as beta readers and general purpose muses. Without their help this story would definitely be a poorer offering. Please take a look at some of their offerings here on fanfic. They a both are very good writers in their own right_

Family Obligations

The sun shining through the window of his room woke up Rhade. He was in his bed, but he wasn't alone. Cuddled up beside him, holding his arm possessively, was a naked woman. She was young and attractive—quite young really, possibly still in her teens. He struggled to remember her name. Ginny? Jane? No, neither one of those was correct. Jeri—that was it. He remembered now what she had told him last night. 'Hi. I'm Jeri, with an 'i.''

He disentangled his arm and, in so doing, woke her up. She rolled over and gave him a smile that actually looked genuine. She also had nice breasts. He felt a stirring between his legs and reached for her, only to be stopped by her outstretched hand.

"I can't stay, Rhade," she said apologetically, softening her refusal with the same smile she had given him earlier. Her voice was sincere, grateful even, as she explained, "Mom is taking care of my baby, and I need to buy him some milk. We're out at home. The money you gave me last night should keep us in milk for at least a week." She climbed out of the bed and began to get dressed. After a moment, Rhade got up and helped her with the embroidered shawl that was the common outdoor wear by the women of the area. Once dressed, the girl began to walk toward the room's door but then stopped and turned back to Rhade.

"Will you see me again soon? You treated me better than most of my customers and now that I know what you like, I can make you even happier than I did last night." She kissed him, a brief peck on the mouth, and then left, the tail of her shawl floating behind her in the hot, dry air.

Rhade brought his hand up to his mouth pressing the tips of his fingers against his lips but then brought it down with a curse. He needed a drink. Several of them. Even the prostitutes in this armpit of the universe had more of a family than he and the rest of the crew did.

He found the bottle he had pilfered from Harper's saloon and poured himself a shot. He gulped it down and then poured himself another. He drank this one slowly. It didn't have to be this way, he realized. If they were going to be spending the rest of their lives in this godforsaken place, they didn't have to do it alone. Jillian wouldn't have wanted him to spend the rest of his life alone. It was time for him to take another mate and find mates for the others.


	2. Chapter 2

Rhade's first stop was Harper's bar. He needed to get information about Doyle and Trance. In particular, just how similar they were to humans physically. Getting the information about Doyle was easy. He just made some off colored jokes with Harper and included Doyle in the subject matter. It seemed that Harper really was a genius. Not only was Doyle physically complete, but she could actually have children as well. When working for Marika, Harper had convinced a number of the local women to donate some of their egg cells for a research project—that project being Doyle. Trance was going to be a different matter. He was going to have to ask her personally. Fortunately, she was currently in the bar.

The avatar of Tarn Vedra's sun was sitting at one of the barroom tables idly playing with a pack of cards. Rhade walked up to the table and sat down across from her. Trance gave him a welcoming smile. She couldn't remember much about her past, but she did remember that Rhade was a friend. After a few minutes of hi and how-are-yous, Rhade started asking the questions he was really interested in.

"Tell me, Trance, before you joined the Maru, did you have any boyfriends?"

A look of concentration passed over Trance's face as she tried to remember. "I don't remember, Rhade. Do you think I did?"

"Well, you're quite attractive. If your species is like mine, I'm sure you did." Realizing that her memory loss would cause him problems, he tried a different tack. "When the young men come into the bar, do you think you would like to get to know some of them better?"

"Dylan and Harper don't let me talk much to the men in here, but some of them seem nice. I think it might be nice to know some of them better."

_That's a start_, thought Rhade. The next question was going to be awkward though. "How about your parts? Are they compatible with a human male's?"

Trance's eyes went wide with confusion. "Parts?" she asked. "I don't have any parts. Maybe Doyle does. Why don't you ask her about her parts?"

"I meant your sexual organs, Trance. Are they compatible with a human male's? You should know about human anatomy since you were our medical officer on the Andromeda."

"But I don't remember any of that, Rhade," said Trance. Her voice trembled, and she looked as if she was about to break into tears. "I've forgotten everything. You know that!" However, within seconds a look of relief crossed her face as an idea came to her. "I know—why don't I show you mine and then you can decide if they are compatible with your species'?" She stood up from her chair, reached down, and began to pull the hem of her dress up to show Rhade her nether regions.

"What the hell is going on here! What are you doing, Trance?" It was Beka; she had just walked into the bar, and the first thing she had seen was Trance pulling up her dress.

"Oh, hi Beka," said Trance, her dress still up around her waist. "Rhade was wondering if my parts were compatible with his. I didn't know, so I thought I should show him."

"He was asking the same thing about Doyle earlier," said Harper, who had walked back into the main room at the same time Beka had entered. There was a mixture of confusion and anger in his voice. He had never felt any reason to be concerned about leaving Rhade alone with Trance before. Apparently, he'd been wrong.

Beka drew her gauss pistol. "I think you had best explain, Rhade. Talk fast and maybe I'll let you finish before I shoot you."

Harper had retrieved the flechette gun he kept under the bar. Rhade wasn't concerned about Harper, but Beka was another matter entirely. "I think it's time they found husbands," he explained hurriedly, holding his hands up in front of his torso like a makeshift shield. "They should be married and raising families, not working in a bar."

"And you think you're qualified to find husbands for them?" asked Beka, still pointing her pistol in his general direction. "I've seen the floozies you hang out with. If they're your idea of suitable mates, Trance and Doyle will be better off single."

"Hey, the one he was with last night was no floozie," said Harper.

Rhades feeling of gratitude for Harper's support vanished when he saw the gotcha look on Harper's face and he waited for the other shoe to drop. Which it did.

"She's not old enough to flooze, continued Harper The grin on his face got bigger at the look of consternation coming over Rhade's face. "I've seen her working the area. I hear she just turned seventeen a few weeks ago."

_I'm dead_, thought Rhade. He hoped Beka would shoot him in the head and not in a lower part of his anatomy.


	3. Chapter 3

Rhade was back in his room lying in his bed, hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling as he wondered what his next step should be. It seemed that things were not going to be as simple as he had first anticipated. Beka hadn't shot him, but the language she used to discuss his mental, physical, and moral shortcomings should have peeled the paint off the bar's walls and set the furniture smoldering. To make things worse, Harper had recorded the entire verbal lambasting and was undoubtedly showing it to every customer who came into the bar. Well, he could deal with that. After he broke a few heads, the snickering would stop. Unfortunately, he still wasn't any closer to solving his problem. Finding mates for Harper, Doyle, and Trance would probably be fairly straightforward, if anything could be considered straightforward when the individuals in question were a half crazy genius, an android, and an avatar of a star. Dylan and Beka were going to be the problematic ones.

Beka needed a man she could look up to and respect, one who would be her equal. That was going to be a hard order to fill. She could outfight, outshoot and outfly most men. She even made him feel inferior at times. Dylan was the opposite problem; Dylan's idea of a suitable woman was one that was breathing. It wouldn't be easy to find a woman that could make Dylan settle down.

Deciding that lying in bed wasn't going to accomplish anything—and as there was no one he was currently on hire to kill, maim, or intimidate—he decided to take a walk. The prevailing winds had changed direction and for once, the fumes from the refineries located near the yttrium mines were drifting toward the north side of town. Donning the wide brimmed hat and serape that was standard outdoor wear for Seefra males, and checking to ensure his force-lance was fully charged and secure in its holster he left his rented room and began to walk.

His meanderings took him through the part of Seefra City that he realized was the section of town that Jeri lived in based on something she had mentioned the night before. She had been a good companion last night and had actually seemed interested in him and not just the amount of company script he had on his person, which made her considerably different from most of the women he knew these days. On a whim, he asked a passerby if he knew where Jeri lived. To his surprise, the man did and pointed out her house.

Rather than go straight to the girl's house, Rhade strode off toward the Seefra City market district. Jeri had mentioned that she needed milk for her baby. Milk was expensive, and a growing baby could drink a lot. Fresh milk also went bad quickly in the Seefra heat. Powdered milk lasted longer but was probably prohibitively expensive for her. Fortunately, he didn't have that problem.

With the exception of a pack of the dog sized scavengers the Seefrans called enyets the market area was nearly deserted, and not just because anyone with any sense was staying indoors to escape the heat. The company police were making a sweep of the market, looking for unlicensed vendors and anyone else they could shake down or bully.

The company ran its own store, which in theory provided everything a resident would need and offered credit as well, something the independent vendors rarely did. Of course, the credit offered by the company came with exorbitantly high interest rates and in reality, the independent vendors offered a better selection of goods than the company did. The independent vendors were in direct competition with the company store, but apparently the company auditors had decided that the revenue gained in license fees made up for the loss in sales. Additionally, if a vendor ordered something in from outside Seefra City, it would arrive in a company vehicle and the vendor would have to pay the company shipping fees.

Rhade made his purchase and headed back toward Jeri's house. The company police looked him over but otherwise let him pass. They knew him. He wasn't prey. He mockingly tipped the brim of his hat in their direction, amused at the apprehensive looks that crossed their faces. In a better mood than he had been in earlier he continued on his way.

As Rhade neared the house that had been pointed out to him earlier he realized something was wrong. He could hear a man shouting and a child crying along with what sounded like a woman's sobs. As he got closer, he was able to make out some of the conversation. The man was berating the woman for not turning over to him all the money she had earned. The woman, who sounded very much like Jeri, was trying to explain that she had needed the money for milk. Rhade was about to turn and walk away when he heard the sound of a fist hitting flesh, followed by a woman's cry of pain. That settled the issue in his mind. A flaming row was one thing, but physical abuse against a woman was something else entirely. He didn't bother to knock. He simply kicked the door open.

The interior scene was pretty much what he expected, with the addition of a second woman, older than Jeri, sitting in a wheelchair holding an infant. Jeri was crumpled on the floor, stirring feebly and moaning in pain while a man nearly as large as Rhade was standing over her. Hearing the door crash open, the man spun around and launched a punch at Rhade's face. Rhade stepped inside the blow and used the edge of his hand, striking the man's collar bone and breaking it. The man staggered backwards with a gasp of pain. A few short instances later, the man, now with a broken arm to accompany his broken collar bone, was lying on the floor as well. Rhade picked him up by his shirt and slapped him across the face.

"I'm only going to say this once," said Rhade, his face just inches from the other man's. "Jeri is no longer yours. If you or anyone else hurts her or even says an unkind word to her or a member of her family, I'll make what I did to you look like a friendly pat on the shoulder. Now get out of here, and if I ever see you near this place or Jeri again, I'll chop you into pieces so small that even the rats won't think they're worth investigating." He shifted his grip and literally threw the man out the still-open door.

"Thank you, Rhade," mumbled Jeri. Her voice was weak but coherent. She had gotten off the floor and was now standing, albeit a bit unsteadily, erect. "I guess I belong to you now."

From the bruise on her face, Rhade decided that there was a good chance Jeri could be suffering from a concussion. She would need to be seen by a doctor—if there was one that would see her. But that was a secondary issue at the moment. The real question in his mind was, what was he going to do with a teenaged prostitute?


	4. Chapter 4

While Rhade was saving Jeri from a beating, or possibly worse, Trance was busy helping out in Harper's bar. She was behind the counter making sure there were plenty of clean glasses and salted nuts available for the afternoon crowd when Doyle came out of the storeroom carrying a box full of bottles of Harper's least toxic home brew. As Doyle started putting the bottles on the shelves behind the counter, Trance decided it was time to ask the blonde-haired android a question that had been bothering her since her talk with Rhade.

"Do you have parts, Doyle?" she asked.

"What?" responded Doyle, completely confused by the question, a bottle still in her hands.

"Do you have parts? Rhade asked me about my parts, and I told him I didn't have any but that maybe you did."

Doyle's tone of voice remained the same, but her eyes narrowed in a manner that Trance had learned meant she was angry. "Exactly what sort of parts was he talking about, Trance?"

Trance shuffled about uneasily. "Are you mad at me, Doyle?" she asked. "Rhade wanted to know if my parts were compatible with those of a human male. When I told him I didn't have any parts, he asked me about my sex organs and if they were compatible. I didn't know that either, but I offered to show them to him."

Doyle's eyes narrowed even more. "No, I'm not mad at you, Trance. At Rhade maybe, but not you. What happened then?"

"Beka came in and stopped me from showing them to him. Then she started calling him all sorts of nasty names and threatened to shoot him if he ever came near me again. I don't think that was very nice of Beka."

"I think Rhade is lucky Beka didn't shoot him."

"That wouldn't have been nice at all. But you didn't answer my question. Do you have parts and are they compatible?"

Doyle forced herself to relax, reminding herself that while Trance had the body of a woman, her mind was essentially that of a child's, a thought which only increased her anger towards Rhade. "Yes, Trance," she said, "I have parts, and they are compatible."

"That's nice," said Trance, actually sounding happy at Doyle's affirmation, "because Harper says Rhade was asking questions about your parts as well. Are you going to show him yours if he asks?"

Doyle hefted the bottle she was still carrying. Her tone of voice was low and practically dripping venom as she said, "I think that if he asks, I'll be showing him something else."


	5. Chapter 5

"Jeri, come over here and take the baby," said the woman in the wheelchair.

When Jeri complied, the woman rolled her wheelchair nearer to Rhade. She looked him up and down, obviously taking his measure. There was wariness in her eyes but no fear. There was no doubt in Rhade's mind that the woman was Jeri's mother. They both had the same storm grey eyes, jet black hair, and a mouth that was just a shade too wide for their faces to be called beautiful. There was a self-confident assurance about the woman that was absent in Jeri. Even though she was sitting in a wheelchair, Rhade felt as if she was at eye level with him.

"I heard Jeri call you Rhade. I've heard of you. They say you're a dangerous man when you're sober. It looks like what they say is true."

Rhade didn't have an answer to that, but he didn't think the woman really expected one. What he did notice was that Jeri had moved closer to him, and he had subconsciously put his arm around her, a gesture which didn't go unnoticed by the woman.

"Jeri says you were good to her last night, that you treated her like a person instead of a piece of meat. She also says you can handle your liquor, which puts you several notches above her father."

"Where _is_ her father?" asked Rhade, hoping the man he had just beaten wasn't him.

The woman took the baby back from Jeri and rolled back a few inches from Rhade. Jeri took the opportunity to press her body even closer to Rhade, intertwining her fingers with his and using him to support most of her weight. She was still swaying a little unsteadily on her feet and her eyes had a glassy look to them. For his part Rhade was beginning to feel very much out of his depth. He still wasn't sure why he had decided to visit Jeri, but he knew that he was getting involved in something for which he hadn't bargained.

"You're a dangerous man when you're sober," repeated the woman. "My husband was a dangerous man when he was drunk. After he put me in this," she indicated the wheelchair, "he started spending time at the Palace. I imagine you're familiar with the place."

Rhade was. It was a brothel known more for the steepness of the steps leading to its entrance way than for the quality of the services it provided. More than one inebriated patron had fallen on the steps when leaving the establishment, Rhade among them.

"He was leaving the Palace after having drunk enough for three men. He fell on the steps and broke his neck. A sort of divine justice, don't you think?"

"And since his death wasn't job related," said Rhade, completely unable to think of anything meaningful to say, "you got nothing in the way of death benefits. I'm sorry."

"There wouldn't have been much even if he had died in the mines," said the woman, shaking her head slowly at the thought. Her voice was more tired than angry. "The company finds it cheaper to pay death benefits than spend money on safety equipment. But, I'm not sorry he's dead. He was a bastard. Jeri was watching when he did this to me. She was ten years old at the time… So now what, Mr. Dangerous Man? What are you planning to do with us now that you've won us in fair combat?"

The woman's tone was mocking but Rhade knew the question was serious. By intervening in the dispute between Jeri and her mack, he had put the woman and her family in even more serious trouble than they had been in already, and that the woman expected him to get them out of that trouble. "The first thing I'm going to do is take Jeri to a doctor. She may have a concussion."

"And then what?" asked the woman. "Emilio, that's the name of the man you thrashed, is a member of the Hangmen. He'll be back and he'll have more of the gang with him."

"Probably," agreed Rhade, his arm still around Jeri, who hadn't said a thing since her declaration that she now belonged to him, another fact that made him want to get the girl to a doctor, "but it won't be today."

"So what happens when they do come?" pressed the woman.

"I'll be here waiting for them."


	6. Chapter 6

It was early afternoon when Dylan walked into the bar. The afternoon crowd had arrived, and the bar was bustling. Harper was busy behind the bar pouring drinks while Doyle was acting as the hostess, taking orders from seated customers and bringing them back to the tables. Trance was sitting at the table she usually occupied during active business hours, watching the activities of the customers and singing a song Dylan didn't recognize, quite thoroughly enjoying herself. Harper had learned to keep her from behind the bar when serving customers after she had started giving the customers his premium stock while telling them that it tasted better than the regular stuff.

"Hello, Trance," said Dylan. He gave her a large grin as he sat down at the table next to the girl. Her happiness was practically contagious and she did have a nice singing voice. "How are you today?"

Trance smiled prettily at Dylan as he took a seat. "Oh, hello, Dylan," she responded. There was a short pause as she seemed to consider something, biting her lip as she did so. Finally, she asked, "Dylan, why do you think Rhade thought I had parts?"

"Parts? I'm afraid I don't understand your question, Trance. What do you mean, why do I think Rhade thought you had parts?"

"Well, he asked me about my parts, and I told him I didn't have any. Then he asked me about my sex organs. He wanted to know if they were compatible with his."

"He _what_?" Dylan almost fell out of his chair. He managed to keep his seat, but his fists clinched on top of the table as he tried to reign in his surprise and anger at Trance's explanation.

"He wanted to know if my sex organs were compatible with his. I didn't know, but I offered to show them to him so he could check. Then Beka came in and stopped me."

"Thank the Divine for that," muttered Dylan, settling himself back in his seat. He took a moment to gather his thoughts and picked his words carefully, knowing how easily Trance misunderstood things. "I think Rhade and I are going to have a long and one-sided talk."

"Do you think my parts are compatible, Dylan?" asked Trance, completely unaware of the maelstrom she was creating. "If I show them to you, will you tell me?"

"No!" exclaimed Dylan, almost panicked at the thought of Beka walking in as Trance lifted her skirt for him. "Err, I mean I think maybe you should let Beka or Doyle look at them and tell you."

"I don't know if Doyle knows. Harper says Rhade was asking the same questions about Doyle, too. If her parts aren't compatible, how will she know if mine are?"

Dylan got out of his chair thinking he had best leave before Trance decided she really needed him to tell her if her 'parts' were compatible. "I think Doyle would know, but I don't want you asking anyone else if they want to see your parts. Understand? Now I think I need to talk to Doyle."

Not wanting Trace to feel she had been scolded, Dylan produced another smile and patted her on the shoulder in a supportive kind of way then began looking around for Doyle. He spotted her near the counter with a tray full of empty glasses in her hands.

"I see you had a talk with Trance," said Doyle when Dylan walked to up to her. "Did she tell you about what Rhade was asking her?"

"She did. She says that he was asking Harper similar questions about you."

So I've been told." She placed the tray of empty glasses down on the counter and picked up a different one loaded with full glasses. "When I get done with the work here I'm going to find Rhade and have a one on one with him."

"I'll go with you," offered Dylan.


	7. Chapter 7

The company medical facilities were by far the best facilities in Seefra City, but they were available only to company employees. They were also the most expensive facilities in the city. Many a mine worker had found that his contract had been extended because of the debts he had incurred using the company facilities. The medical care offered in the portion of town Jeri and her family lived in wasn't nearly as good as the company facilities, but it was the only medical care available. It was also a purely cash-on-the-barrel-head sort of business. Rhade had to the show the receptionist the color of his money before she would even consent to checking to see if Jeri could be seen that day. She could, provided Rhade was willing to pay extra for the visit. The doctor who examined Jerri confirmed what Rhade had suspected—she was suffering from a concussion. The doctor's advice was for Rhade to take Jeri home and let her rest while Rhade and her mother kept an eye on her. The advice was good, but there was one complication. Jeri's household was out of food.

Power in most areas of Seefra City was a hit or miss affair and in the area where Jeri lived, it was more miss than hit. As a result, few homes had a way to refrigerate food and most households bought only enough fresh food to last a few days. Jeri informed Rhade that if he wanted to eat anything more than potboil and seksu that night, they needed to go to the marketplace.

The sun had just sunk below the horizon and the worst heat of the day had dissipated by the time they left the doctor's office. With the setting of the sun, the market became active. Unlike Rhade's earlier visit, the market area was crowded as people and other beings began coming out of their houses where they had been staying to escape the afternoon heat to do their shopping. For the most part, the crowd matched the earth beneath them, dressed in neutral colours made of cloth that allowed the skin to breathe. However every now and then Rhade noticed someone wearing a brightly coloured headscarf and shawls or with long clean hair. Both were signs of wealth as they meant that the wearer could afford extra water for washing.

Vendors sat under fabric awnings, hawking their wares in the light of the rechargeable chemiluminescence lanterns that were the standard form of illumination in the poorer section of the city. Produce, meat, fabric, tools, weapons—they were all for sale if the price was right and you knew who to speak to. There was a saying among the townspeople: if you couldn't purchase an item you wanted at the market, it was because the item didn't exist.

Rhade kept Jeri close to his side as the girl wandered through the stalls and haggled with merchants over the price of their goods, and not just because he enjoyed the feel of her body against his. By now, word would have gotten out about his fight with Emilio. He wanted the word spread that Jeri was now his and was taking pains to make that fact obvious. Once people understood that she belonged to him, his reputation would give the girl and her family a degree of protection when he wasn't around to protect them.

After Jeri had finished with her purchases, Rhade — now minus his serape which Jeri had appropriated for use as a makeshift grocery bag — took them to one more stall, a butcher shop where he bought a quarter side of bacon. Pork was a luxury in Seefra City. In an area as arid as Seefra City water was for drinking and irrigating crops, not for making hog wallows. In Seefra City, even the wealthy bathed out of buckets. The primary source of animal protein for most Seefra City residents came from yevis — the Seefran equivalent of a goat, that bore a vague resemblance to a six legged, hirsute pangolin and was raised for milk, cheese, meat, wool, and hides and had a taste that made the word 'gamey' an understatement— or from rats, which were raised for food the way guinea pigs were once raised by South American Indians on old Earth. Beef was a rarity, and the average resident of Seefra City ate pork maybe twice a year. For Rhade to buy Jeri a quarter side of bacon was almost as extravagant as if he had bought her an emerald bracelet.

They were on their way back to Jeri's home when she finally asked the question he had been expecting ever since she had stated that she now belonged to him.

"What are you doing to do with me, Rhade?" she asked, her voice was carefully neutral and her eyes were focused on the ground instead of on his face. She wore a headscarf even though the sun was down, and it partially hid the bruise from her earlier confrontation with Emilio. Still, the girl radiated vulnerability.

No Nietzschean or Terazed woman would have asked that question, but Rhade wasn't surprised when the words came out of Jeri's mouth. Far too many Seefran men regarded women as little more than property, and far too many Seefran women had been beaten into accepting that as fact.

"As soon as you're healthy, you're going to work," he stated, He hadn't really given the matter any thought, the words just seemed to come out on their own. Unfortunately, he hadn't considered that she would take his answer in the wrong way.

She sagged against him like a balloon that had been deflated. "I should have known better. You're just like all the other men. I thought you'd be different."

Rhade put a hand under her chin and lifted her head so she was looking at him. "Listen to me, Jeri," he said. "As long as you're with me, you'll never have to work the streets again. I meant you'll have a real job—one that pays real wages." As he said these words, he realized that he had just made an irrevocable commitment to the girl and, by extension, to her family. And, even more puzzling, he didn't know why he had made it.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Rhade," said Jeri. There was life in her voice again, but it was tinged with something else—a cross between sadness and anger. "I know you think you mean it, but Seefra doesn't work that way."

"Then I'll have to make it work that way," said Rhade.


	8. Chapter 8

"That's his place," said Doyle, pointing to a two structure building. "It's a boarding house. Rhade lives on the second floor."

"How do you know where he lives?" asked Dylan.

"I've been here with him before." At Dylan's quizzical look, she continued by explaining, "When he gets too drunk to make it home by himself, Harper has me help him home. The main door is open; let's go."

They entered the building and ascended a flight of stairs to the second floor. The stairs emptied into a hallway with doors along each side and a large window at the end.

"This is his room," said Doyle as she stopped at a room in the middle of the hallway.

Dylan knocked, but there was no answer. Then he tried the knob. The door was locked. "Will you do the honors, Doyle? He's probably sleeping one off." As he spoke a picture formed in his mind of Rhade slumped over his bed, still half-dressed, the floor of the room littered with empty bottles.

Doyle twisted the knob. There was a cracking sound, and she brought her hand up, holding the doorknob "I think it will open now," she said as the door swung inward.

"What are you two doing there by Mr. Rhade's room?" came an unexpected voice from behind them.

Dylan and Doyle both turned around to see a stooped, grey haired old woman who could have been anywhere in age from 50 to 80 years old standing in the hallway. She might have been called sweet-looking except for the large caliber pistol she was holding unsteadily in both hands. Her eyes widened when she saw the doorknob in Doyle's hand and the partially open door.

"Robbers!" she cried. "Help! Thieves in the building by Mr. Rhade's room! Help!" There was the sound of voices and people stirring coming from some of the other rooms.

"Excuse me, ma'am," began Dylan, putting on his best lady charmer smile, "I assume you are Mr. Rhade's landlady. We were—"

"Dylan," interrupted Doyle, "run." There was a chamber pot beside Rhade's door. She grabbed the pot and threw it through the window at the end of the hallway, completely shattering the glass. She leapt through the now-open window, dragging Dylan behind her. They hit the ground rolling and began running to the accompaniment of bullets from the landlady's gun whizzing past them.

"Well, that was interesting," said Dylan dryly when they got back to the bar. "When you have a landlady like that, I guess you don't need a security system."

"But you had better pay the rent on time," added Doyle. "I guess we'll have to postpone our discussion with Rhade about his interest in my and Trance's parts for another time."

"It is an interesting question though," mused Dylan. "Are Trance's sexual organs compatible with those of a human's?"

"Why don't you ask her," said Doyle. "That way, Harper and I can make a bet on who Beka shoots first, you or Rhade."


	9. Chapter 9

As soon as Rhade and Jeri got home, the women took over dinner duties and left him in charge of Jeri's baby, a little boy named Samuel who, according to Jeri, had just turned nine months of age. As soon as Rhade's eyes met the little boy's, he knew he was lost. The boy's eyes were identical to those of his own son Justinian's. Somewhat surprisingly, Samuel showed no fear of strangers and soon he and Rhade were crawling on hands and knees, chasing each other over the dirt floor.

The baby sitting duties gave him time to inspect the house, something he hadn't done earlier. The house itself was made of rammed earth, the common building material for most of Seefra City as it was strong, made of easily obtainable materials, required a minimum of water in the building process, and was reasonably cool in the brutally hot Seefra City afternoons. Also like most Seefra City buildings, it was partially below ground level, a natural result of a construction process that could be described as, 'dig a hole in the ground and use the dirt you excavated to build walls and a roof over the hole.'

The interior of the house was also typical Seefran construction. The floor was hard packed dirt covered with the occasional rug. There was a combined living, dining, and kitchen area where the women were currently preparing dinner, and later the family would be eating while sitting on cushions around a low table. There were two small bedrooms, one of which contained an elevated bed while the other contained the typical Seefran mattress lying directly on the floor. Rhade surmised the room with the elevated bed was Jeri's mother's as the elevation would enable her to move directly from her wheelchair to the bed and vice versa without any assistance. There was another room which, judging from the smell emanating from it, contained the house sanitary facilities. With water being a scarce commodity in Seefra City, most Seefran sanitary facilities were of the honey bucket variety.

Dinner consisted of the ubiquitous potboil and seksu, the soup and boiled grain that were standard dishes in Seefra City. The staples were supplemented by some sort of greenery, boiled groundnut (which, despite its name, was a root crop resembling a beet), and a side of rat meat. Desert consisted of yevi cheese and an assortment of sliced fruit. The meal was excellent, but Rhade was careful not to eat too much and leave some leftovers on the plate. It was considered bad manners to overeat when a guest in someone's house. The leftovers would be put into the potboil pot where they would become part of the next meal.

Rhade's offer to take care of the dishes drew surprised looks from both Jeri and her mother but no objections. He also ordered Jeri to go to bed. The doctor had told them that she needed to take it easy for several days. So far, Jeri had been following that advice only in the negation. With Jeri in bed and her mother busy doing something with needle and thread, Rhade used the fine sand that was bought in the market the way dish soap was on some planets to clean the dishes.

It was after the dishes were done that things became awkward. He had finished the dishes and was wondering if he should be asking where he would be sleeping tonight or if he should simply say goodnight and go back to his rented room when the woman rolled her wheelchair up to him.

"Please sit down, Mr. Rhade." The words were a request but the tone of voice was an order.

Rhade sat down on the cushion he had been using earlier and prepared himself for the questioning session he knew was coming.

"What are you running from, Mr. Rhade?"

That was not the question he had expected. "What makes you think I'm running from something?" he asked. He had to repress the urge to say 'matriarch.' If Rhade had been one to believe in reincarnation he would have sworn that the woman sitting before him had been a pride matriarch in a previous life.

"Only three types of people come to this place, Mr. Rhade— company employees, fools, and people who are running from something. Though I suppose it could be argued that the first two categories are really one and the same. You don't work for the company and you don't strike me as being a fool, therefore you must be running from something."

Rhade decided to keep it simple. If he tried to explain about the Spirit of the Abyss and how he had been transported here by the avatar of a star, the woman wouldn't think he was a fool, she would think he was insane. "There was a battle," he said. My side lost."

"You picked a very poor refuge then, Mr. Rhade. Or perhaps not, since who would think to look for a man like you here—hiding in the open, as it were." There was a moment of silence before she asked her second question, the one he had been expecting. "You brought milk as a gift. Very few single men would think of that, but it is something a married man might do, especially one with children. Are you married, Mr. Rhade?"

"I was. They're gone now."

"Gone?"

"Dead."

"I see. It seems it's now my turn to say I'm sorry." She looked at a clock mounted on one of the room's walls. "It's getting late. Good night, Mr. Rhade. I'll see you in the morning."

"Thank you, Mrs.…" Rhade trailed off uncertainly when he realized he had never bothered to ask Jeri what her last name was. "If you have a spare blanket or two, I'll sleep over there." He indicated a corner of the LDK room. "Unless you'd rather I sleep elsewhere, of course."

"Isn't it obvious, Mr. Rhade? Jeri's bed is quite big enough for the two of you."

Rhade gave the woman a dumbfounded look. He had just had a woman tell him that she expected him to sleep with her daughter.

.

"Don't look so shocked, Mr. Rhade, and close your mouth before you swallow a fly. It's my body that's broken, not my mind. I know perfectly well how my daughter supports us. She's not an innocent little girl." Here, her tone changed and became more thoughtful. "One can never predict the paths life takes us. Last night, you were paying my daughter to have sex with you. Tonight, you are a welcome guest in our house. There was no one here to protect us when we needed protecting, but I believe you can be that one now."

There was the briefest of pauses, but Rhade knew not to interrupt. She hadn't finished yet.

"To be honest, Mr. Rhade, you're not the type of man I would have liked to see Jeri take up with. I expect that all too soon, she'll be grieving over your dead body. But, I think you're the type of man she—_we_—need and not just because of your proficiency with violence. I have ears. I listen to the gossip when Jeri takes me to market. I know your reputation. You're a hard man, but it's never been said that you've mistreated a woman. Jeri's older than her years, Mr. Rhade. She was forced grow up too fast. Most children around here grow up too fast. Stay with Jeri, be good to her. Right now, she's infatuated with you but if you give her time, she'll learn to love you and give herself to you completely. I'm trusting you to take care of her and give back to her what she will give to you." Her tone changed again, becoming almost friendly. "Mr. Rhade sounds so formal. Is Rhade your first or last name?"

"My last," answered Rhade. "My first name is Telemecus. My friends call me Rhade."

"Telemecus," she echoed, laughter in her voice. "I can understand why your friends call you Rhade. What do your enemies call you?"

"Mostly, 'It's him! Run!'"

For the first time since he had met her, the woman smiled. "Rhade it will be then. You may call me Elaine. Now, why don't you join my daughter? I know she's still awake; I don't hear her snoring." She turned her wheelchair and began to wheel toward her bedroom, only to stop and spin the chair around to face Rhade again. "Oh, and in answer to the question you were too polite to ask... I'm the second type of person."


	10. Chapter 10

"So not only does he half kill her pimp, he takes her shopping. I hear he even bought her a quarter side of bacon. I can understand Rhade—he'll chase any woman who will let him between her legs—but that girl, how can she lower herself that way?"

Harper looked up from wiping the bar's countertop, hoping there was someone passed out in a corner who he could usher out the door and get away from Beka's tirade, but unfortunately the bar was empty. Doyle had been her usual efficient self in removing the customers at closing time.

As Rhade had anticipated, the word had spread like wildfire that Jeri and her family were now under his protection. When Beka had gotten wind of the story late that night, she had promptly stormed into Harper's bar and began venting. Harper had been doing his unsuccessful best to ignore her.

"I don't see what your problem with their relationship is," he said, finally deciding that Beka wasn't going to give him the option to ignore her.

"I think I just added you to my men to shoot list," growled Beka.

"What would you have her do, Beka?" he asked, still wiping down the bar countertop. "Starve? Continue to sell her body? Without Rhade, what chance do you think she has of getting out of this hellhole? Hell, what chance do any of the kids born here in south-side have? The company doesn't even acknowledge that they exist. Rhade will protect her, get her off the streets, and ensure that she has a roof over her head and food on her table. If she has a family, he'll take care of them as well. She'll be good for him, too. First he lost his family, then he lost Louisa. He needs someone to take care of, to give him a reason to climb out of the bottle he's been living in."

"But she's only seventeen," protested Beka. "Rhade's old enough to be her father."

"Which means she's been old enough to sleep with whoever she wants for over a year," answered Harper.

He put down the rag he had been using, reached under the counter, and brought out his flechette gun. He placed the weapon on the countertop and looked up at Beka.

"When's the last time you've seen the company police down here on the south-side, Beka?" he asked pointedly. "They spend all their time north-side protecting people like your old boyfriend Jonah from people like us. The only time they come down here is to evict some family who has fallen behind on their rent or scoop up some poor girl who attracted the attention of one of their employers.

"Down here, the gangs make the law and the only law they respect is this." He patted the buttstock of his weapon when he said 'this.' "And you have to admit that Rhade is real good at enforcing this kind of law. So forgive me if I act like I don't care that Rhade's taken up with a girl half his age, because I don't."

His point made, Harper put the flechette gun back under the counter and resumed wiping down the counter.

"There was a time," he said, looking at the counter rather than Beka, "when we would have cleaned this place up and made it safe for girls like the one you've been berating—her name is Jeri, by the way, not 'that girl'—but that was then and this is now.

"Dylan spends every minute of his time trying to repair Andromeda. You're busy doing cargo runs bringing in luxury goods for your north-side clients. Trance can't even take care of herself these days. Rhade's a one man gang by himself when he's not trying to drink himself to death. I'm not going to do anything without you guys, and Doyle can't do it by herself. So, if you really want someone to blame for Jeri's situation, I suggest you go look in the mirror."


	11. Chapter 11

Rhade woke up to the smell of bacon cooking. He climbed out of bed, found his clothes, and after making use of the sanitary facilities, entered the kitchen. There was bacon, eggs, and toast being prepared and apparently there had also been a very interesting conversation going on as well.

As he approached he was able to hear Elaine speaking to Jeri."...you would most likely have to be the one to propose," she was saying. "Rhade's a Nietzschean and in their culture it's the women who propose to the men."

"Actually on Terazed we're not too strict on who proposes to who," interrupted Rhade. "Just as long as everyone is properly married before the children start arriving."

Both women looked embarrassed with Jeri actually blushing. Elaine quickly changed the subject and began teasing Jeri accusing her of wearing their guest out. Jeri, for her part, argued that she had to get out of bed early while she was still able to walk.

There was some truth to both statements. Jeri had decided that being told to stay in bed didn't mean she had to sleep, and when Rhade joined her, she demonstrated that she was indeed wide awake. Rhade, for his part, rose to the challenge she presented. She challenged him several times that night.

It was after breakfast that Rhade learned one of the advantages of living in a boarding house. In the boarding house, someone else emptied the honey bucket. He also found out that after he took care of sanitation duties, he had to go down to the neighborhood fountain and bring back the household's daily supply of water. After all, explained Jeri, he was big enough he could do it in one trip; it would have taken her two.

It was on his way to the fountain that Rhade began to get that itchy feeling between his shoulder blades that he knew was his reaction to being watched. His subconscious mind had picked up the clues his conscious mind had missed.

He supposed it could be nothing more than an overly inquisitive neighbor of Jeri and Elaine's, but he didn't really think so. He headed back to the fountain and made a show of emptying the water bottles, rinsing them out and refilling them, all the while looking for someone watching him.

He spotted them on the way back to Jeri's house. Two men—one short and solidly built, the other tall and wiry—neither one of which looked like they belonged in the area. He had seen them when he first got the feeling he was being watched. He noticed them again at the fountain as he was rinsing out the water bottles, and they were following him now. Neither one was carrying water bottles, so they weren't neighbors getting their house supply of water.

There was an alley he could duck into just ahead. It was actually on the way to Jeri's house, so moving into it shouldn't be too suspicious. It would also be a good place for a quiet murder if that's what the two following him had in mind.

He ducked into the alley and drew his force-lance. A few minutes later, the men came around the corner of the alley with weapons ready. The shorter man carried a handgun while the taller one was holding a knife. Rhade didn't bother telling the men to drop their weapons. He shot the gun-wielder squarely between the eyes and then used his force-lance as a club, striking the knife out of the other man's hand. Moving quickly, he slipped behind the now unarmed man and pressed his force-lance across his windpipe.

"Talk," he hissed, emphasizing his words by jabbing the man in the underside of his jaw with the force-lance. "Who are you and why were you following me?"

"You're dead, big man. We're going to kill you. No one messes with the Hangmen—no one. We're going to kill you and that little bitch of yours and her mother. Maybe we'll make you watch while we do it. We'll have our fun with them, and then we'll hang them. We'll do it slow, so you can watch them twitch and claw at the rope. Then when they're dead, we'll do you."

"I don't think so," said Rhade, sounding completely unmoved by the gang member's threats. "And you won't be there to watch it in any event." He shifted his grip on the man's head and twisted. There was a cracking sound, and the man fell lifeless at his feet.

Jeri was waiting at the door when he arrived. Rhade quickly pushed her inside and closed the door.

"Rhade, what's wrong?" The smile on her face disappeared and was replaced by a look of concern. "Where's the water?"

"I ran into some Hangmen. They were a hunting party. I was the target."

"Oh," said Jeri, putting her hand up to her mouth as she spoke.

Rhade placed both hands on her shoulders. "We don't have much time," he said. "This place isn't safe. Do you have friends you and your family can stay with for a few hours?"

"Yes, but why?"

"Do you remember Doyle from Harper's bar? The blonde woman who serves drinks? She'll come to your friend's place and then take you to Harper's bar. You'll be safe there 'til I come back."

"Come back from where? What are you planning to do?"

"I'm not going to wait for them to bring the fight to us," Rhade explained hurriedly. "If I do, we'll lose. I'm going to bring the fight to them. Do you know the location of their headquarters? I know it's somewhere in the tanners' section, but I don't know exactly where."

"I know where it is." She named a location of a warehouse in the section he expected. "Sometimes Emilio made me go there to service the gang members," here, she averted her eyes as if she was ashamed to meet his, "even some of the women members."

Jeri quickly explained the situation to her mother, who agreed with Rhade's analysis that staying in their present location was unsafe. She was dubious about Rhade's assurance that Doyle could protect them until he told her how he had first encountered Doyle and how she had had both him and Dylan running for their lives.

The trip to Jeri's friend's house was uneventful. If Elaine had been able to walk, Rhade would have considered taking them all directly to Harper's establishment, but he was concerned that burdened down with both Elaine and the baby, the trip would take too long and there was too great a chance they would be spotted. He was confident that if he was alone, he could handle any Hangmen he might encounter but not if he had a family to protect.

As he was preparing to leave, Jeri reached out to grab him by the arm. "Rhade, not all of the women you find there are going to gang members. Some of them will have been forced to be there, just like I was."

"How can I tell who is who then?" asked Rhade.

"You won't," admitted Jeri, worry evident in her voice. She squeezed his arm tighter, imagining the plight of the other women.

"That rather limits my options then," said Rhade, disentangling Jeri's hand from his arm. "I'll do my best not to hurt them, but I can't promise anything."

"I know that but try." She grabbed him by the ears and pulled his head down to hers, kissing him fiercely. "Just come back to us."


	12. Chapter 12

"Hello, Rhade," greeted Harper, looking up from behind the bar as Rhade walked in. "It's a good thing Beka and Dylan are on a cargo run and not here in Seefra. I think Beka still wants to shoot you."

"I'll deal with that later," said Rhade, completely bypassing the normal friendly insults the two of them usually exchanged. "Right now, I need to get that box you've been keeping for me."

"You mean you want access to the box you're paying me to store for you?" asked Harper, somewhat put off by Rhade's brusqueness. "Which reminds me, you haven't paid this week's storage fee."

Rhade reached into a pocket of his trousers, pulled out a wad of company script, and tossed it on the counter top. It was a sizable sum of money, enough to cover Harper's rent for the bar for several weeks. "This should cover it. Now let me have the box."

It was at this time that Doyle came out of the storage room. When she spied Rhade, her eyes narrowed, and she began to stride over to the two men. "Rhade, you and I need to have a talk," she began.

"Not now, Doyle," interrupted Harper. An angry Rhade could be frightening enough but the fact he acquiesced to Harper's demand for payment so readily was in its own way even more frightening. Something or someone had Rhade badly rattled, and anything that could rattle Rhade was not something he wanted coming after him. "Help me get Rhade's box for him."

Harper let out a low whistle when he saw the contents of the box. "What are you going to do—fight a war?"

"Close enough," said Rhade. He removed a harness-like garment and began to don it. "I'm going after the Hangmen." He took other objects out of the box, attaching some of them onto the harness, placing others in various pockets on his clothing, and placing bigger things in a large sack.

"That _is_ a war. Do you want Doyle to go with you?"

Rhade paused in his selection of lethal objects. The offer was tempting, but there were other considerations as well. "No. If I can't handle this by myself, having Doyle along probably won't make any difference."

"Oh, really?" demanded Doyle, anger being replaced by indignation at the idea that Rhade didn't think she would be valuable in a firefight. "You don't think I would be of any use?"

"You will be of use, just not for this part," said Rhade as he adjusted his harness and made sure he could easily reach the equipment attached to it. "I took out some of the gang earlier this morning. It was a surveillance operation. They were sizing us up for a hit. Jeri and her family are with some friends right now, but you can be sure the Hangmen have other members out looking for them. I need you to get them and bring them here. If I don't come back, keep them here until Beka can take them someplace safe. I don't think the gang would attack this place to get at them if I'm dead, but if they do, I want you here to protect them."

He gave Doyle the location of Jeri and her family, then picked up his sack. It was midday. That would be to his advantage. Most members of the gang would probably be napping, trying to escape the midday heat, when he struck. It was time to prove Jeri's mother right when she said he was the one they needed.


	13. Chapter 13

As Rhade neared the tanners' section, he donned the lightweight serape and a broad-brimmed hat that most male residents of Seefra City wore when out in the midday sun. It was time to take a closer look at the Hangmen's lair. Jeri had described the exterior and interior layout of the warehouse for him, but he wanted to see for himself. He slung his pack full of ironmongery over his shoulder, bent forward, and began to shuffle his feet along rather than taking his usual long stride. He looked for all the world like just another homeless Seefran scavenger carrying his worldly possessions on his back.

He shuffled along head down, circling the building. The few passersby he encountered gave him a wide berth when he began screaming incoherent obscenities at the air.

The warehouse was a typical Seefra City warehouse. It was, unsurprisingly, made of packed earth. There were two side doors, a personnel door, and a loading door, as well as the main entrance. The windows were mere slits in the wall. They were admirably suited to be used as firing slits but were too small for a person to climb through. The warehouse had two levels. From Jeri's description he knew the lower level was essentially one large room while the upper level contained several smaller rooms that had once been used as offices but were now used as bedrooms by senior gang members when they wanted to 'entertain' in private.

Rhade's estimation of the building was that if an enemy was on the outside and equipped with nothing but hand weapons the building would be a difficult target to storm, but once the enemy got inside the building, it would become a deathtrap. There had been two guards posted at the building's main entrance but none at all at the side doors. Either the gang felt totally secure in their headquarters or they felt that they had the area too cowed for the locals to even think of assaulting their fortress. In either case, it meant the gang's leaders were fools.

His reconnaissance completed, Rhade removed his serape and hat and began his preparations for his attack. His first task was to assemble his firearm. A few clicks and snaps later, he had what looked very much like an old Earth shotgun equipped with a box magazine and a piece of pipe attached to the underside of the barrel. The weapon was in fact a gauss rifle and the pipe a grenade launcher. The box magazine was actually a dual magazine. One portion of the magazine contained standard effector rounds while the other contained what was euphemistically called non-lethal ammunition

The company police used the same type of ammunition when putting down the periodic protests that broke out in the mines and refineries. Although called non-lethal, it would have been more accurate to call the ammunition _less_-lethal. A person hit in the head by one of the rounds would almost certainly be knocked unconscious, with a serious concussion a near certainty and death a distinct possibility. A round to the chest could shatter ribs, driving splinters into the heart killing the unfortunate victim who had been hit by the allegedly non-lethal ammunition. It wasn't a good solution to Rhade's problem of sparing the women. In fact, it was a very bad solution. Unfortunately, it was the only solution available to him. His only other non-lethal option was his force-lance. When used it as a melee weapon, it had a stun setting that could render a person unconscious relatively safely. The problems with using his force-lance was two-fold—one, when used in ranged combat mode, the weapon had no tactically useful non-lethal capability; and two, it took several seconds to switch from melee mode to ranged combat mode, a delay that could prove fatal in a firefight.

His personal weapons readied, it was time to secure the side doors. As he came to one of the doors, he reached into the sack he had been carrying and removed a number of boxes about half the size of a shoebox. The devices were a form of antipersonnel mine, but instead of shooting a cloud of steel balls or something equally lethal at their target, they sent out a spray of darts that were connected to the box by a fine wire. Anyone unfortunate enough to be struck by one of the darts would receive an electric shock strong enough to knock them unconscious. He used the same devices on the other side door. He would have preferred to use something more lethal, but he had promised Jeri he would try to spare the captives.

His flanks protected, Rhade began his assault. Both guards at the main entrance died before they had time to notice him coming around a corner of the building. Stepping over the bodies of the guards, he checked the door—it was locked. He supposed one of the guards had a key, but he didn't bother checking the bodies. He was planning on a more spectacular entrance, one that would give him a bit more of an edge in the upcoming battle.

He reached into his sack and removed several round objects about the size of baseballs— High Guard concussion grenades—and a disk about the size of a dinner plate about one inch thick with a numeric keypad on one side. He placed the disk against the door, where it adhered itself firmly to the surface, and entered some numbers into the keypad before stepping to one side. Thirty seconds later, there was an explosion. What remained of the door flew inwards into the building. Rhade threw the grenades in after the door. There were several more explosions, and then he stepped into the warehouse.

As he entered the building, Rhade spent a few seconds surveying the situation. The door and the grenades had accomplished their purpose. The gang members were running around like ants after their hill had been kicked, but with even less purpose. He spotted one man shouting commands trying to establish some sort of order out of the chaos. Rhade killed him first. Another gang member, a woman, was pointing what looked like a pistol at him. She died next. After that, he became busy ensuring he was killing the right people without being killed himself.

Rhade's battle strategy was simple. Since there was no way he was going to be able to tell if a woman was a gang member or a captive while in the midst of a firefight, he simply shot everyone in the warehouse. If they were male or female and pointing something in his direction, he used a lethal round. If they were female and running away, he ignored them. If they were female and not running but not pointing anything his way, he used a non-lethal round on them.

It was more butchery than combat. There was no organized resistance, and only a few of the gang members were armed. The gang's armoury was in the warehouse, and a few members were able to acquire weapons. The armed members died just as quickly as the unarmed ones, falling to a hail of effector rounds or blasts from grenades. Once the ground floor was clean, Rhade began his sweep of the rooms on the upper level. The majority of them were either empty or contained terrified young women. A few of the rooms contained men who were either too intoxicated or too cowardly to defend their turf. It turned out that Rhade was incorrect—the stun setting on his force-lance turned out to be useful after all.

The warehouse secured, Rhade went outside to check his mine field. There were a number of women and a few men lying on the ground. Emilio was one of them. Rhade killed him with no more emotion than if he had been killing a venomous insect.


	14. Chapter 14

"Welcome back. Did you guys hear the news?" asked Harper when Dylan and Beka entered the bar.

"News about what, Shorty?" asked Beka, giving Harper a friendly punch on the arm. "That you've finally got your still working properly?"

`"Ha ha," laughed Harper sarcastically while rubbing his arm. "Very funny. The still's working just fine. You just don't like the flavor of fermented wintun juice."

"Neither does anyone else with more than two working taste buds," quipped Beka. "So what's the news?"

"Rhade wiped out the gang that had been forcing Jeri to work for them. He hung the Hangmen."

"Who's Jeri?" asked Dylan. "Do I know him? And who are the Hangmen?"

"He is a she," corrected Beka. "She's Rhade's child girlfriend. She can't be half his age. He—"

"Beka," interrupted Doyle, "do us all a favor and shut up." Coming from Doyle, the comment was so unexpected that Beka really did cease her tirade. "You have no idea of the realities of life here," continued Doyle. "When you're not delivering cargo, you're either aboard the Maru or Andromeda. You probably haven't spent a month total down here in south-side. The only person in south-side who's going to think their relationship is a scandal is you. Most of the people here are going to think Jeri made an outstanding catch."

"I don't think Rhade's love life is any of our business anyway, Beka," said Dylan. He gave her a stern look to back up his verbal admonishment. "Every planet has its own mores. Just because they don't agree with what you believe is proper doesn't mean that they're wrong. If the residents here accept Rhade's relationship with this girl, you're just going to have to accept it as well." He still wasn't sure who the Hangmen were but decided that if both Doyle and Harper felt that having them wiped out was a good thing, he wasn't going to press the issue.

Deciding that she didn't have an audience, Beka brought up the other subject that had been troubling everyone. "What about his interest in Trance then?"

It was Trance who answered Beka's question. "I don't see why you're all so mad at Rhade," she said. "Harper explained it all to me. He told me we needed to talk about the birds and the bees, but he didn't talk about birds and bees at all. He talked about how most men and women get married and how good a good marriage could be. Then he talked about men and women's parts and how they fit together and how they made babies. And, he talked about how important it could be for a couple to have babies and how it could ruin their relationship if they couldn't make them. Then he used some funny words when he talked about how when a man and woman put their parts together. He said it strengthened their pair bond—whatever that means."

"It means it makes a couple feel more like a couple when they do it," explained Beka.

"Why didn't you just say that then?" asked Trance, looking at Harper. "Anyway, after that I asked if he wanted to strengthen our pair bond—" Fortunately for Harper's continued health, Trance continued her story before Beka could do anything lethal. "—But he said no and that I should wait on sharing my parts until I met a man I loved and wanted to spend forever with and who felt the same way about me. He said it's OK for a man and woman to share their parts when they feel that way about each other, but it's even better if they wait till they get married."

The look on Beka's face when Trance told her the last part became one of stark disbelief. "You told a willing woman that she should save herself until she gets married?" she asked Harper. "Who are you and what have you done with the real Harper?"

"So that's why I don't understand why you're all so mad at Rhade," concluded Trance. "He wants Doyle and me to get married and raise families. I think that's a nice thing to want for a person, don't you?"

"He did say that, Boss," said Harper. "I believe his words were, 'It is time for Trance and Doyle to find husbands and start raising families—not be working in a bar.' Of course, you were busy pointing a gun at him at the time, so you might not have been paying much attention to what he was trying to tell you."

"I guess I owe him an apology then," admitted Beka.

"Owe who an apology?" came a voice from behind them.

Standing in the doorway was Rhade. He was pushing Elaine's wheelchair. Standing close beside him holding her baby was Jeri. They looked very much like a family.

"Jeri," said Rhade, pushing the young woman forward toward Harper and the others. "I told you I'd find you a job. I'd like you to meet your new employer, Seamus Zelazny Harper, better known as Harper. Harper, meet your new barmaid, Jeri."

"Huh? What? I don't need…" began Harper.

"Hire her, Harper," ordered Beka and Doyle simultaneously.

"Uh, welcome to the establishment," said Harper, knowing that he wasn't going to be given any choice in the hiring process. "Why don't you go with Doyle and Trance, and they can start showing you around the place."

As the women left, Rhade pushed Elaine up to one of the bar's tables and sat down beside her. Beka and Dylan joined them.

"I have a couple of things I guess I should be saying," said Beka.

"Oh?" asked Rhade, one eyebrow moved upward in a silent question.

"Yes. First, don't even think of trying to find me a husband. I'd probably end up shooting him. Then I'd shoot you for making me shoot him. And, second, didn't you say that Trance and Doyle should be married and raising families, not working in a bar?"

"They should, _and_ they shouldn't be."

"OK, then my question is, when are you going to be taking Jeri out of this establishment and doing the same for her?"

"Soon, Beka, real soon."

The End - unless of course I decide to do a follow up. Hope everyone enjoyed the story.


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